


Sanity of the Heart

by NiceTryMoron (Nononlnkink)



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Murder, Background Relationships, Church Isn't an AI, Dubious Science, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mentions Of Schizophrenia, Mentions of Dissociative Identity Disorder, Minor Character Death, Multi, No Smut, Paranoia, Past Relationship(s), Slow Burn, Sorry Not Sorry, Suicide Attempt, Technobabble, Technology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-01-09 15:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12279756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nononlnkink/pseuds/NiceTryMoron
Summary: Noeva Corporation is the leading industry in military and combat technologies. There are rumors that the reason rival companies are swiftly crushed under the corporation's boot range from anything to corporate espionage to downright murder. Agent Washington may have had a hand in a few of those. He didn't agreed with the means, but he had no right to disobey orders from the Director.Questions begin to rise, however, with the death of one of Washington's fellow agents. A smart-assed stranger that is determined to see how many times Washington can stop him from jumping might just have the answers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What the fuck kind of summary is that, right? I spent way too much time trying to think of a good one. I just wanted to write some Churchington shit and, all of a sudden, there's a plot. I have no idea where this is going so buckle in with me. This will be bumpy. 
> 
> (I need to stop making more work for myself ugh.)

Washington grumbled as his truck once again chuffed and died. It always got finicky when it rained. He hadn’t even left the Noeva Corporation parking lot yet. He slumped forward and hit his forehead on the steering wheel. The horn immediately when off, startling him. With a curse, Washington threw himself back against the seat. It was utterly ridiculous! He had been supposed to be at his sister’s  _ hours  _ ago and in addition to unpaid overtime, now the truck just hated him. 

With a long-suffering sigh, Washington tried again. This time the vehicle roared to life, lights slicing through the rain. He didn’t waste any time in pulling out of the parking spot and driving out of the lot. It took a while for him to navigate through the winding roads of the Noeva campus. It was built like a maze, structured as if it was trying to lose enemies with every turn. Washington could appreciate the idea - even if he hated trying to find his way through all the buildings. Once he had managed to leave the main campus, there was the surrounding neighborhood that had been built to house employees. The whole massive compound had been built like a small city. The work being done deep in the labs of Noeva was mainly military tech and the paranoid higher-ups had decided that employees living and working within bug and camera distance were less likely to leak any information. With the nature of the testing and production going on inside the main compounds, it was always surprising to see children jumping off the school bus in the evening or playing football in a backyard. 

It easily takes half an hour trying to get through the miniature city. By the time Washington reached the bridge crossing the river separating Noeva Corp from the rest of the world, the rain had lightened into a drizzle and his dashboard clock read one in the morning. He always got nervous driving over the bridge. It wasn’t that it wasn’t safe, it just seemed...dangerous? He wasn’t sure why he hated it. Maybe it was how the streetlights weren’t set at regular intervals. Some were closer together than others, illuminating the bridge in odd patches. 

Washington suddenly slammed on his brakes. Just a few feet in front of him, standing in the light, was a man staring out at the dark water. Washington hesitated. The man gave no indication that he was aware of the truck idling a mere yard away. He was just watching the river, hands bracing him as he leaned too far over the railing. If the wind picked up anymore, it would send the thin man over the edge. Surviving the fall into the shallow, chaotic water wasn’t likely - not without some nasty injuries from the rocks hidden under the rushing current.

Washington wasn’t sure why he began to pull against the curb. He wasn’t sure why he fished under his seat for the umbrella emblazoned with the Noeva Corp logo and fought to open it as he climbed out of the cab. It flared out and nearly jerked out of his hands. The man spared a vacant glance at the umbrella now protecting his sopping form from the rain. 

Washington didn’t get a chance to say anything. “Morning,” the man said. His voice was flat.

“Morning.”

They stood there in silence for a few minutes. Washington watched the man carefully. His hoodie was dark blue from the rain. He had leaned back and slouched against the railing, hands fiddling with his phone as he chewed his lip. The man’s sudden turn towards Washington didn’t surprise him, however, the agent was stunned at how shockingly blue the man’s eyes were behind foggy glasses “Ever thought that maybe things would be better if you just left? Like, not that life would magically become better for everyone - life fucking sucks regardless of who dies - but those around you would have one less stressful thing to worry about, one less person that they felt like they had to watch. One less person that can’t take care of himself that they would have to constantly check on.”

“Yeah,” Washington mumbled, “yeah, I’ve thought about it.” The man sighed as he turned back to the water. Washington kicked at the cement, thinking. “I’m assuming you’ve already heard this before, but those people keeping an eye on you do it because they care.”

“I know.”

“Doesn’t make this seem any less tempting,” Washington gestured at the black waters. The man hummed in agreement. They stood in silence for another moment, the drizzling rain against the umbrella and bubbling river the only sounds in the air. After a minute or so, the man’s posture relaxed with an air of defeat. He reached out and patted Washington’s arm. He left silently, as if afraid to interrupt Washington’s thoughts. The man walked across the bridge to a light gray car. Washington watched as the man climbed in and, with a little wave, drove back the way the agent had come. The security agent chewed his lip as the dim tail lights faded into the rain.

Maybe...maybe he felt like he had to stop because he knew exactly why the man was on the bridge in the middle of the night. Washington had stood there before. 

Suddenly shivering, Washington hurried back to his truck. He was frozen and still extraordinarily late. 

The umbrella didn’t put up a fight when he closed it and tucked it back under the driver’s seat. It was pure luck that the truck started on the first try. Washington carefully pulled back onto the road. If he peered back in the rearview mirror to try and catch a glimpse of long-gone tail lights, no one would have seen. He spent the thirty minute drive onto the freeway wondering about the mysterious man with electric blue eyes. He had clearly been a Noeva employee. Maybe one of the scientists or a lab tech? Washington hadn’t ever seen him before, so he probably wasn’t one of the higher-ups. Would be ironic if he was, though. Washington gets paid when he can successfully protect one of the suited pricks, so why wouldn’t he end up being morally obligated to stop one of them from jumping? 

Washington flicked his left turn signal on and slid into the next lane. The rain made the asphalt a little slippery. He glanced back in the rearview mirror. There was only a red jeep on the highway with him. It followed behind him when he got off the next exit. When he turned into his sister’s neighborhood, it turned as well. Suspicions immediately began to run through Washington’s mind. Was it someone from Noeva? Had someone seen him talking to the man? Maybe it was someone from a rival company? There were a lot of companies that Noeva had nearly kicked out of the market. What if it was-

His phone rang. The sudden shriek of some old 80s band startled Washington enough that he jerked the wheel to the side and had to fight against the slippery asphalt to correct the truck’s path. With a grumble, he reached across the seat to dig his phone out of the cup holder. He didn’t need to look at the caller ID, there was only one person he knew that was awake at this hour - and who had his private number.

He swiped the green accepted button and set the phone to speaker. He dropped the poor device back into the cup holder. “What do you want, C.T.?”

“Hello to you too, Wash.”

“It’s nearly two in the morning.”

There was a huff from the other line. “Yeah, so?”

“ _ Yeah, so?  _ I could have been asleep!”

“And you aren’t,” C.T. said, “so shut up.”

Washington rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile that was attempting to appear. “Fine. What’s up?”

“I know you were planning to spend the weekend with your sister’s family, but something’s come up. Can you meet me at Charlie’s in fifteen?”

“What do you mean something came up? Is everything okay?”

C.T. was quiet, thinking. Finally, she just sighed. “I can’t explain over the phone. I don’t trust it. Just meet me at Charlie’s. I’ll buy you a burger even.”

Her voice was shaky. Nervous. Washington pulled up to the intersection right before his sister’s house. The blue two-story was looking more appealing every second, but C.T. was obviously distressed about something. The other end of the line was silent, letting him run over his options. He could be in a warm bed in exactly four minutes or he could be listening to his co-worker’s worries over a burger. As wonderful as that bed was sounding, Washington couldn’t just let C.T. spend the whatever was left of the night worrying. “Alright. I’ll be there in ten.”

At first he thought she had hung up on him. Then came a quiet, “Thanks, Wash.”

Washington turned right and began to make his way back through the neighborhood. C.T. was easy to upset and she got wound up over small, seemingly insignificant things. Hopefully this was nothing more than a false alarm and Washington could smooth over the situation without any trouble. On the off chance that whatever had spooked C.T. was serious, well, she would have gone to Carolina or even York. Not ‘the newbie even though he’s been here for nearly thirteen years’ David Washington. Right?

_ She could be hurt or in danger.  _

_ Yeah _ , Washington thought with a frown before shaking his head. No talking to the thoughts. That’s off limits. 

Charlie’s was a local bar that opened in the later hours of the day and then closed after the five-to-nine rush. It served good food, good beer, and the atmosphere was relaxed. The Security Force had used the place as a rally point for more than a few incidents. No one would think twice seeing a group of people wearing the Noeva logo, even if they took up the whole back corner. Most of the business around Gulch flourished thanks to the Noeva employees, but Carolina always made sure that they ordered something to keep in the owner’s good graces. It was a familiar location and Washington was glad that C.T. at least chose someplace close.

He arrived before she did, easily five minutes before they had agreed. Washington was nervous. He couldn’t help it, meeting co-workers outside of usual business had different rules. He was expected to engage in the whole social thing. Not really his cup of tea, but at least some of the others understood. C.T. hadn’t really gone to any of the more social gatherings within Security. She and Washington got along well, sure, but he was the only one she seemed to tolerate. 

Washington took a booth further towards the back and slid into the seat facing the door. A softed-smiled waitress came over with a menu and he ordered a glass of water. After returning with the glass, the waitress let him be. Washington pretended to look over the menu, eyes darting up to the door whenever it would creak. 

C.T. walked in just as Washington’s watch hit two. She immediately spotted him - he was still in his work uniform - and made a beeline towards his booth. As she slid into the seat across from him, she snatched the menu out of his hands. “Anything look good?” 

“I didn’t really look at it,” Washington admitted.

C.T.’s eyes skimmed over the glossy pages before folding it up and sliding it back over to Washington. “I’ve always liked their seasoned fries.” The waitress returned and took C.T.’s order; a large order of the fries, a Pepsi, and a plain burger. When the waitress asked if she wanted anything on the burger, C.T. simply said, “Wash here likes things plain and boring.”

Washington kicked at her under the table. The waitress scribbled down the order and left. Once she was out of earshot, Washington fixed C.T. with a serious look. “So what’s got you so worried that you couldn’t even tell me over the phone?”

“It’s just a theory.”

“A theory?”

“Well,” C.T. cleared her throat, “I have some suspicions and evidence. Not enough to prove it or anything. Nothing that will hold up in court.” 

“Evidence of what?”

“Of the Director getting himself into some shady shit.”

Washington sighed. “Obviously. He’s the CEO of Noeva and whatever other companies that operate under it. Who wouldn’t have some nasty secrets running an operation like this? C.T.,  _ we’re _ some of that shady shit.”

“Officially, we’re bodyguards for the company elite.”

“Yeah, exactly. That’s our  _ official  _ job.”

C.T. rolled her eyes. She leaned forward and held out her hands as if trying to drive in her words. “That’s not what I mean. I’m talking about some seriously fucked up ethical shit. Ignoring basic human rights, killing people, forcing people to kill themselves, awful stuff.”

Washington recoiled.  _ Killing themselves? Like the man on the bridge? _ He leaned forward until the two security agents were nearly nose to nose. “How do you know?”

“The Director’s got some secret military tech that he’s got a good portion of the lab staff on - they just don’t know that they’re working on the same project. It’s apparently being headed by one of the Director’s top developers. Terry was helping move shipments of electronic parts-”

“You got Terry involved? Your fianc Ã© ? Are you fucking serious?”

“He volunteered!”

Washington spread his hands across the table. “So?”

“Shut up and let me finish,” C.T. snapped. “Terry ran into the guy while unloading the electronics. He’s a jackass, not that surprising, but sure knows computers.”

“And this project?”

“All I’ve managed to find out about it basically describes it as a memory-clone.”

“Like brainwashing?”

“Maybe?” C.T. shrugged. “I already told you I didn’t have much.”

Washington made to ask her another question, but was interrupted by the arrival of their food. The waitress carefully set down the plate with his hamburger in front of him. C.T. asked for some ketchup, which the waitress swiftly retrieved. Once she was assured that they were alright, the waitress disappeared to tend to other tables. The tantalizing scent of the warm burger made Washington’s stomach rumble. Just how long had it been since he had eaten? Breakfast, maybe? He wasted no time in taking a bite and hummed. C.T. gave him a smirk. 

While eating, Washington tried to chase after his thoughts that the waitress had scattered with her arrival. Something about the project, no. The project lead - oh, right. “So how did you find out about this super secret project?”

C.T.’s hand stopped just in front of her mouth, french fries dangling from her fingers. “Remember that conference that Amundsen had to attend?”

“The one about robotics or armed vehicles?”

“The robotics one,” C.T. said. “Remember who the Director sent with him?”

_ Shit.  _ “ _ Tex _ .”

“Bingo! And the winner is Washington! You know what kind of missions Tex gets sent on. The fun, messy ones with higher death counts than between us two combined. Now why would the good ol’ Director send his bloodthirsty guard dog on a routine conference attendance when one of us would do?”

Washington frowned, “That is concerning, but that doesn’t mean-”

“Look, Wash,” C.T. cleanly cut him off, “I asked you because out of the rest of us ‘security force’ or whatever they want to call it, you’re the one I trust the most. I need your help.”

“You want to go against the Director.”

“Yes.”

“That’s suicide.”

“So?” C.T. crossed her arms and leaned back against her seat. “He’s hurting people.”

“He already has! We’ve hurt people for him!”

“This is different, Wash.”

Washington shook his head and made to get out of the booth. “No, C.T., this is crazy.” As he moved, C.T. grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. She kept her tight grip, turning her attention to her coat and dug through its pockets. She made a sound of triumphant. 

“Take this. Just look it over and when you’re done, you can destroy it.” She handed Washington a little white flashdrive. He took it, stared at it in the palm of his hand before sighing and stuffing it in his jacket pocket. C.T. let him go. “If everything on that changes your mind, let me know.”

“Yeah, sure,” Washington couldn’t meet her eyes,“good night, C.T.”

“Night, Wash.” 

He left without looking back. Leaving Charlie’s sent a chill down his spine that had nothing to do with the autumn weather. Washington dug out his keys and unlocked his truck. As he moved to get into the cab, the flashdrive fell out of his jacket pocket. He picked it up and tossed it in the dropbox. What C.T. had been saying was bordering on blasphemy in their line of work. He just hoped she’d drop it. And maybe drag her horrible influence of a fianc Ã© out of it too.

It took a few tries to get the truck’s engine to turn over. Once it finally did start, Washington began to drive back towards his sister’s house. Last minute, just as he pulled up at the neat and tidy driveway, he decided that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. He had too much chasing around his mind now. The last thing Washington wanted to do was drag his family into work business. Washington found his phone where he had dropped it earlier and left a quick message on his sister’s answering machine.  _ Something came up at work. Won’t be able to make it. Sorry. Love you. _

If his head wanted to fight his decision to return to his empty apartment back in the Noeva campus, it didn’t put up much of one. 

When he drove across the bridge - _ ignoring basic human rights, killing people, forcing people to kill themselves, awful stuff _ \- Washington slowed down. Just in case.  _ Forcing people to kill themselves. _ Maybe he should hit the gym at the security building. There was no way he’d be able to sleep with the thoughts of the electric blue eyed man and C.T.’s suspicions chasing each other in circles.

The flashdrive sat heavy in his mind as he pulled back into the parking spot he had difficulty leaving mere hours ago. He didn’t noticed the red jeep creeping along into the parking lot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, yes, welcome to Everything Goes to Shit in 4k words.   
> The fact that this thing is multichaptered is exhibit A on why writing never goes to plan. This chapter is exhibit B.
> 
> Good job for figuring out who was gonna die. I mean, it's not that obvious right (hahahah I think I'm so funny)?

“Hey, Wash-” 

Washington startled up right, hand instinctively reaching for the knife taped to the side of his desk. His wide-eyed stare met the amused eye of a coworker. He relaxed and slumped over, head resting on his arms. “York,” Washington groaned, “stop doing that.”

York stepped into the office with a brilliant grin, a styrofoam cup in each hand. “Sorry, man. You looked like you were getting some heavy z’s there. Next time, I’d recommend a pillow instead of your unfinished paperwork.”

“You should talk!”

“I can’t help it, Wash.” There was a mischievous spark in York’s face. “But whenever Carolina visits-”

“I don’t want to know!” Washington chucked a pen at the older man who leaned out of the way. York crossed over to him once there was no threat of office supplies turned missiles to hand over a cup. Washington took in, but not without a huff. He took a sip.  _ Pumpkin spice _ . THat meant it had been prepared for someone else, but Washington wasn’t willing to give up any coffee - no matter how nasty. He was  _ so tired _ .“Carolina isn’t back yet?”

York perched himself on the edge of Washington’s desk. “Not yet. She called earlier to say she’ll be back around two. Connie’s going to meet her at the airport and take over guard duty so she can report in.” Washington glanced at his watch - seven twenty. He nearly slept in, certainly would have if York hadn’t woken him. Maybe he should have gone home instead of coming back. 

York leaned over to nudge Washington’s arm. “Any specific reason you pulled an all-nighter? I thought you were going to spend the weekend with your sister.”

“Something came up,” Washington shrugged.

“And that something was?” York held his hands up with a laugh when he only received a glare as an answer. “Alright, fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll just wait until Maine weasels it out and ask him.”

Washington settled for glaring at York over his cup. 

A loud crash out in the hallway drew both of their attention. “What-”

“ _ Who the fuck broke the coffee machine? _ ”

York slid off the desk and hurried to the door. He peeked out into the hallway. “I think that’s my cue to skedaddle. See you later, Wash - if South doesn’t kill me that is.” With that, York made a hasty retreat. Washington began to laugh when a shout echoed from further down the hallway and York’s responding, “Oh shit.”

South dashed past with murder in her eyes, an amused Maine following not too far behind. Maine stopped by Washington’s door to offer a lazy salute. Washington returned the gesture and Maine continued after South. From the sound of it, she had caught up to York. _ Poor guy,  _ Washington thought,  _ maybe North will save him. Maine certainly won’t. _

Washington tuned out the fighting. He was back on the clock and that meant he had to actually work. The papers he had been using as a pillow earlier were now crumbled, useless. He’d had to hunt down new forms. Carefully piling them into a semi-organized stack, Washington spun his chair around and dumped them into the trash bin. None of them had any sensitive information anyway. He could hear Florida scolding him for not recycling, but the blue bin was further away and he didn’t want to move yet. No moving until he could convince someone to bring him a second coffee. Although, if York really had broken the coffee machine -  _ damn it _ . Washington scowled. 

His earpiece, removed the night before, chirped from it’s spot on the now clean desk. Washington picked it up and carefully positioned it back in his ear. He activated it. “This is Agent Washington.”

“Oh! Wonderful! Usually you agents answer on the third or fourth call.” A feminine voice said in glee. “This is Phyllis down at HR. I’m calling to make sure that you’ll be attending your appointment with the Counselor at seven forty-five?”

_ Shit.  _ Washington’s watch read as seven twenty-nine. He had sixteen minutes to get to the HR building. He could reach it in twenty if he ran. It would only take a few minutes to drive, but it was too much of a hassle trying to get through the early traffic as he’d be forced to drive through the residential streets. He was going to be late. The Counselor might not say anything, but it would still count as a strike in Washington’s psych record. The man analyzed everything as if there was some hidden psychological motive. Washington being late would be see as him trying to avoid sessions or some fearing the discussions.  _ Stupid psychologist. _

As he swung his jacket on, Washington hurried out of his office, dodging past the group still gathered around South and York. He shouldered past Idaho with an apology and ducked under Georgia’s outspread arms before making it out of the crowd. Wyoming was hanging in the back, not appearing all that interested. He glanced up from his phone when Washington came past. “And where are you off too?”

“To see our favorite psychoanalyst.”

“Mhm. You’re going to be late.” Wyoming raised an eyebrow when Washington didn’t stop as he spoke.

Washington only waved back at him before disappearing around the corner. He heard Wyoming call out a ‘good luck’. The single elevator that most of the agents had access to was at the end of the hallway, just past the break room. As Washington pressed the up button, he cursed that they had the privacy of the basement floors. It was nice to avoid the actual security force when they were training with live firearms and deadly knives. That and Washington didn’t have to share an office with anyone. If only the wait for the elevator was five minutes less. 

The elevator arrived with a  _ ding _ . Washington scrambled to get inside before the doors began to slide closed, barely keeping his jacket from getting stuck. He tapped the lobby button. Soon, he was deposited on the ground floor and was surrounded by other Noeva employees. The mass of people allowed him to step off the elevator before all rushing to squeeze themselves in. As the agent made his way towards the entrance, he spotted North coming in. They made eye contact and both called out, “You’re late!” North laughed as he held the door open. 

“South’s trying to kill York,” Washington said over his shoulder as he dashed past. North rolled his eyes. 

“Isn’t she always?” He muttered. Washington just gave him a thumbs-up. It was always North stuck doing damage control for South. Carolina lost the patience for it years ago.

The sidewalk was empty when Washington finally got out of the security building. Just doing that had eaten away a good portion of his time. The run to human resources was twelve minutes and it was already seven thirty-seven. He’d be four minutes late, which wasn’t  _ that  _ late. Right? Washington stumbled down three stairs to get to the sidewalk from the front of the building. He managed to avoid face-planting by grabbing onto the handrail. He cursed under his breath and continued to do so until he was out of breath. 

It was seven forty-five when he reached Main Square and seven forty-eight when he reached the HR building. By seven fifty, he was inside and attempting to talk to the receptionist. Phyllis didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed with something on her computer. 

“Ph...Phyllis,” Washington panted, “I’m here...to see the Counsel...Counselor.”

Phyllis looked up at him with a smile. “Wonderful! Take a seat and he’ll be with you momentarily.”

“I’m not...late?” 

“The Counselor is still talking to an early appointment. I don’t believe he’ll notice.” Phyllis had a knowing twinkle in her eyes. She gestured to the couches and chairs scattered around the lobby. Washington threw himself into the nearest one with a huff of relief. He made himself comfortable - the Counselor took his time and Washington wasn’t expecting to be called back any time soon if the man was still chatting. Besides, the chair was one of those comfortable cushioned ones. Even if he hadn’t been so tired, Washington would have been sorely tempted to nod off. It was a desperate fight to keep his eyes open. 

He must have dropped off into a light doze because the next thing he knew, Phyllis was calling his name. The receptionist smiled at him. “The Counselor will be ready in a just moment.”

“Great,” Washington grumbled. He yawned as he stretched his arms above his head. His neck was a little stiff from his slumped position. There was still sleepiness tugging at the corners of his vision, but his exhaustion evaporated when the door leading to the Counselor’s chosen ‘therapy room’ flew open. Washington was on his feet, one hand reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. The man behind the door didn’t notice the agent and stormed into the lobby. The Counselor followed, calm and collected as ever. The man spun on his heel to face the psychologist and snarled, “I don’t think you do understand, Councilor. See, there’s a fine line between - oh shit.”

Washington had yet to relax. For a moment, he thought that the man had finally noticed him, but as the man sheepishly smiled at Phyllis, Washington noticed her heart-stopping glare. “Sorry, Phyllis,” the man said. 

“I’m sure you are, sir, just like the fourteen other times you nearly broke the wall and came out yelling.”

The man’s sheepish look faded into amusement. “Always so snarky.” The man stiffened as the Counselor put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Leon-” 

“I know, I know. People to see, minds to analyze. I’m leaving.” The man shrugged off the hand. He turned around and, finally, noticed Washington. Both men froze at the sight of the other. The man recovered first. He came over and held out his hand with a grin. “I didn’t get your name since it was fucking freezing in the rain.”

It was the man with the startling blue eyes. Here. In the HR department. Having just walked out of the Counselor’s office.  _ What the fuck _ . Washington just stared. 

“Dude, staring is rude.”

“Right,” Washington gave himself a mental shake and reached out to shake the man’s hand. “David Washington.”

“Good to meet you, Wash.”  _ Wash? _ “I’m Leon, but no one calls me that. I answer to Church for the most part.”

Washington just nodded. His mind was whirling. He went to ask about last night, about the bridge, but everything was brought to a halt when the Counselor spoke up. “Have you two met before?”   


“Not really,” Church said as he buried his hands in his coat pockets. “Ran into one another a while ago. It’s just hard to forget such badly dyed hair. There’s no way he’s a natural blonde.”

Washington blinked. “What?”

“Of course.” The Counselor looked at Washington. “If you are ready, Agent Washington?”

Washington hurried over, barely catching Church’s excited ‘oh’ at the title. The Counselor closed the door behind them. The walk was short. There were only two doors that branched off the hallway. One lead to the Counselor’s office, the other to a sitting room. Washington pulled the door open and used his foot to keep it open for the other man. 

“Make yourself comfortable, Agent.”

He forgot how much he hated this. He perched on the edge of a chair while the Counselor sat in a well-loved blue armchair. The psychologist leaned forward, dull eyes fixed on Washington. He fought to keep eye contact.  _ Avoid weakness _ , his mind hissed,  _ this man is a predator. Your skills are of no use here. _

“How long has it been since we last had an appointment?”   


“A while.”

“In numbers, Agent.”

“Nearly three months.”

“Why has it been so long?”

“You’re the one psychoanalyzing me. Why can’t you tell me?”

“I believe you are afraid of allowing others see your emotions. You think of them as weaknesses.”

_ Predator.  _ “They get in the way.”

“You are more comfortable listening to voices in your head and paranoia then your own emotions?”

“That’s a trick question.”

_ Stupid, stupid, stupid! Avoiding the question won’t work, you idiot!  _ The Counselor tilted his head. He had latched onto the conversation topic, something had interested him. Washington would have to distract him. It didn’t help that just being in the room put him on high alert. Washington’s nails dug into his palms. 

“What makes you think that?”

“Think what?”

“Do not act obtuse, Agent Washington. Why do you think that asking about what you trust most between your paranoia and feelings makes it a trick question?”

“Everything is a trick question with you.”

“Is that paranoia talking? Is there something telling you that I cannot be trusted?”

_ Lie!  _ “My line of work makes trusting people difficult.”

“You trust your team.” The Counselor scribbled something down on his notepad. “You trust your family and friends. Does trust come easily for anyone else?”

“Should it?”

“Agent Washington…”

The Counselor trailed off when Washington held up a hand. His earpiece had suddenly been filled with staticky voices, all vying for attention. There was a common thread in all the voices -  _ panic _ . Washington shot to his feet. “There’s something wrong. I need to go.” 

The Counselor didn’t stop him. He couldn’t - only Carolina or the Director could order one of the agents to stay. 

Phyllis had let out a surprised squawk when Washington burst out of the door and sprinted out towards the exit. She had called after him, but he didn’t hear her over the blood pounding in his ears and his earpiece’s increasing volume. As he ran out the doors and across the street dividing Main Square from the rest of the campus, Washington tried to reach York. There was no luck so he tried Maine, Wyoming, North, South, and Florida. He nearly attempted Texas before giving up. He’d see what was going on when he reached security. 

It was taking too long.  _ Someone was hurt - dying - dead.  _ Horrible thoughts chased each other around Washington’s head as he ran. Each grew worse and more brutal. Images of North with gorey holes in his chest, South burning alive, York slumped against a blood-stained wall, Carolina staring at nothing with lifeless eyes. When he stumbled up the steps leading the the security building, he was drained. He pushed the doors open and stepped into an empty lobby. The elevator opened as soon as Washington pressed down. His fingers flew across the keypad as he entered his ID number. The elevator creaked into motion. 

The silence was killing him.

The doors opened into a lifeless room. There was no one in the breakroom laughing or stealing each other’s food. The offices closest to the exit - Carolina, York, and the Dakotas - were empty. The offices around the corner were all empty as well. The monitor room, bathrooms, and locker rooms followed in kind. The air was still, silent. There was nothing to resemble the panicked chaos that he was hearing through the earpiece. He returned to the elevator. 

If no one was on the main floor, then there was only one place that everyone would be. The second basement level was only the training and observation rooms, but the third level had all the technology and weapons the agents were provided. It also had the large operations theatre where they discussed missions and talked with the Director. If Washington didn’t find anyone in there, he would be at a loss. 

The elevator opened and Washington was immediately assaulted by noise. He barely had taken a step away from the elevator before North was there, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him towards the table in the center of the room. “What’s going on?” Washington had to raise his voice over the commotion. 

North’s face was grim. “C.T. got attacked en route to Carolina.”

“Wasn’t she suppose to leave later?”

“Carolina’s charge managed to get on an earlier flight. She had called in and C.T. left immediately. She’s barely ten minutes out of Blood Gulch now.” 

When they reached the table, Washington noticed Carolina on one of the large screens. She was speaking with Florida. He didn’t seem to be actively listening, too busy studying C.T. vital’s on a tablet. Carolina finally looked up at the rest of the agents gathered around. “Wyoming, get a team and get out there.”

A scratchy, static-laden voice came from Florida’s tablet. “You won’t reach me in time!” C.T. let out a harsh laugh as the sound of a ricocheting bullet echoed through the line. “Missed, asshole!”

“C.T.-”

“Hold on! I’m trying not to die!” There was a pause, filled only by her labored breathing. “Location: that stupid dinosaur gas station fifteen minutes north of Gulch. I think there’s two-no, three of them. I can’t really tell. One of them threw a fucking knife at me! No civilians, they all cleared out with the first gunshot. I’m hunkered down behind the hummer. Got hit in the leg and side. Any plans, geniuses?”

“We’re working on that, C.T.,” Carolina said. “Just stay down until the team reaches you.”

Washington frowned. “It takes twenty minutes just to get off the campus. It’ll take too long.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill them,” South snarled. 

C.T. sounded wistful when she said, “Terry’s going to get a dog the second he hears I’m dead.”

“You’re not going to die!” Carolina yelled.

Everyone was quiet. The panic faded into a heavy acceptance. Carolina glanced around the room before turning off her camera. C.T.’s line was silent. The room’s collective breath was held as Florida tapped at his tablet. Washington was too far away to see the exact numbers, but the flaring red was sign enough. 

There was a soft, “Oh shit.” The room could hear as C.T. tried to scramble away from her attackers. 

The voice of one of them was deep and struck Washington to his core. There was no life to it. Just a dark monotone that could shake walls. C.T.’s communicator was patchy, but it managed to pick up a few of the attacker’s words. It was mostly meaningless rabble.

“Where--you--where?”

C.T.’s words made Washington freeze. “I don’t have the flashdrive.”

“--where?”

Her smile was evident in her tone, even as she laughed death in the face. “I don’t have it, idiot. It was too much for me so I chucked it into the lake. Have fun scuba diving if it’s that important.”

There was a third voice that was barely caught by the communicator before the line went dead. Florida swore and everyone turned towards him. “She’s not dead. Not yet. They just smashed the communicator.”

A few of the agents left the room after that. C.T. might have had a bad bark and bite, but she had been well-liked. She wasn’t dead, but as Florida had said,  _ not yet _ . North put a hand on South’s shoulder when she turned to leave. Carolina’s camera remained off, but Washington could hear her punch something. Florida didn’t move and York seemed frozen in place. His good eye was fixed on the table, hands clasped in front of him, and brows furrowed. Washington forced himself to move. He took the seat next to York. 

Carolina’s image flickered back on. Her eyes burned with fury. “Is there any chance that Wyoming will reach her last position soon?”

“Fifteen more minutes,” Washington said. 

Florida winced. The few remaining agents all looked at him. “Whatever is going on, C.T.’s stress levels spiked. She said she was shot in the leg and side. She’s a tough girl, but I don’t know how long she’ll last with severe bleeding and any future trauma.”

“Give me an estimate,” Carolina demanded.

“Ten to fifteen minutes, at the most.”

“ _ Fuck _ !” York snarled as he stood up, sending his chair rocketing back. Washington scooted over in his chair to face the furious agent. York crossed his arms. “We can’t just stand here! We need to go after them-”

“York,” Carolina said.

“She’s one of us, we can’t leave her like this-”

“York!”

“I refuse to stand by while-”

“York,  _ shut up _ !” 

The man froze mid-sentence. Carolina sighed. “I know that you want to go after her - we  _ all  _ do. C.T. is our sister in arms and part of our weird ass family, but there’s nothing we can do until Wyoming’s team gets to the scene and gets a look at things. Understand?”

“Yeah, alright,” York muttered as he righted his chair and sat back down. Washington put a hand on his shoulder. Much to his surprise, York didn’t shake him off or pull away.

“Okay.” Carolina met everyone’s eyes. “We need a plan.”

“Do we know why they went after C.T.?” North asked. 

South hummed in thought. “Was it personal? Do we need to keep an eye on Terry? He’s a prick, but C.T. loves the guy for some reason.”

“We need to know who ordered the hit in the first place,” Washington said. 

“And if it was C.T. they were after or someone else and happened to stumble upon C.T. by chance.”

“The voices weren’t familiar,” Carolina added, “I doubt they were among any of the for-hires we’ve worked with.”

Washington ran a finger along the table. Florida glanced up at the noise. He frowned at Washington before turning to the conversation. “They were after something - a flashdrive? Anyone know what she was talking about?”

A chorus of no’s. Washington stared at the table. 

Carolina looked off screen for a moment before sighing. “Alright. Everyone dismissed. I’ll be back at Noeva shortly and, hopefully, we’ll have some insights by then.” Her image flickered off and a  _ signal disconnected _ symbol popped up in her place. The room’s occupants didn’t budge from their spots. 

South was the first to leave, slamming her chair back into place and storming off with heavy footfalls. North hurried after her. York grabbed Washington’s arm and dragged him out of his chair and pushed him towards the elevator. “I’m going to stay with Florida, but you should go.”

Washington wasn’t going to argue. He barely squeezed in before the doors closed. The ride up was solemn, no one feeling brave enough to break the silence. The twins got off on the second floor, probably to let South shoot things until she was more level-headed. Based brief glimpse Washington got of the observation deck, they weren’t the only ones thinking of that. Washington rode up to the lobby and got out there. It was barely eleven and yet, it felt like a week had passed by. C.T. had given him the flashdrive just the night before. Now she was gone, probably dead, because of it. It made Washington’s head spin. 

He walked to the parking lot. He needed to see what was on the flashdrive. The small white device fit in his palm and yet it had caused a massive upheaval. Whatever was on it better be important or else C.T. will die for nothing. Washington crossed the parking lot towards the red brick apartment complex directly across from security. All the agents were housed there, close to security in case of emergencies. Washington had a personal computer that he was more confident was bug-free. The Noeva computers were closely  monitored, so using his own would be safer. 

As he struggled to dig his keys out of his pocket, his earpiece chirped. Washington ignored it in favor of opening his door. Once inside, with the door shut and locked, did he answer. Florida’s voice simply stated, “She’s dead. Her vitals dropped just as you left. Wyoming radioed in that he found her body a minute ago.”

Washington didn’t respond. He plucked the earpiece out and threw it at the wall. The tiny device exploded when it collided with the hard plaster. He got his laptop from its place on the coffee table and wasted no time in plugging the flashdrive in. 

“You better be worth it,” he whispered as the files loaded. 

The first file that appeared was labelled ‘Washington’. He clicked on it and it opened a text file. 

_ Hey David, _

_ Sorry we don’t get to be co-conspirators. I put all this together for you since I figure I’m not going to be around long enough to tell you everything. I got sloppy when digging around. These files are everything I’ve managed to piece together. The Director’s up to something - something that isn’t a military contract. I don’t know if it’s personal or some kind of revenge plot or what, but it’s bad. Whatever weird techno-gadget he’s working on, it’s going to hurt people. People close to the Director. If that doesn’t say just how far gone the man is, I don’t know what would.This isn’t enough to be taken seriously, but it’s enough that if anyone finds out that you have it, you’ll be killed. Be careful. Don’t be stupid. (And tell Terry that he better name the dog something other than Lucky or I’ll haunt his ass.) _

_ Connie _


	3. Files I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking that every few chapters, I'd post a chapter that was all files that Wash would have found in C.T.'s drive. Let me know what ya'll think of it and if you think it works or not. 
> 
> I'm pretty sure I made up most of the technobabble below so, oops.

>C:\User\David>External Device: RUN

  >Files: Located

     >Run? _Yes_

     >Retrieving files...

     >Retrieving .txt files...

     >Open File Directory? _Yes_

>NOEVADRIV:\>Directory

  >Emails and Memos: RUN

      >Noeva Memos: RUN

      >Retrieving files...

      >View files? _Yes_

 

> Label: Noeva-Memo-01, File: Emails and Memos

_Attention All Noeva Employees,_

_The South Lab is currently occupied by Noeva technicians. They wish to ask all employees to avoid entering the building unless needed. The lab is outfitted to handle experimental projects and, as such, may be dangerous. Please use caution if you ever do enter the building._

_Thank you,_

_Noeva Corporation Management_

> Label: Noeva-Memo-02, File: Emails and Memos

_Attention All Noeva Employees,_

_The South Lab is now restricted. Entry will only be given to those who are assigned to the lab. Any employees attempting to enter without the necessary access will be terminated. We ask that you remember that the experiments currently ongoing at the South Lab may be DANGEROUS or HAZARDOUS._

_Thank you,_

_Noeva Corporation Management_

> Label: Noeva-Memo-03, File: Emails and Memos

_Attention Management,_

_We would like to know what is going on at the South Lab that is so dangerous that it is restricted. As employees of Noeva Corp, we deserve to know if there is a danger to us on company grounds._

_Thank you,_

_Noeva Employees_

> Label: Noeva-Memo-04, File: Emails and Memos

_Attention All Employees,_

_For those who have brought up the responsibilities of the employer to alert all employees to any dangers, we have actively attempted to persuade employees from attempting to get into the South Lab. For those that do and end up injured or terminated, their attempts were on own their own accord. We do not have the ability to unveil the experiments taking place, as per contract._

_Be safe, be smart_

_Noeva Corporation Management_

 

> Label: Noeva-Memo-05, File: Emails and Memos

_Attention Idiots,_

_Stop coming into my_ **_[censored]_ ** _lab! It’s dangerous enough without having to deal with morons like all of you thinking that you’ll be sooo cool if you sneak into the South Lab. The next person that decides to come ‘visit’ or ‘drop in’, I’m going to use you as a test subject. Got it?_

_South Lab Crew_

 

>Files: END

>Return to Directory? _Yes_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like how this turned out, but eh, so it goes.
> 
> I totally included a little Florida/Wyoming, but it's like you have to super squint to really make it out, ha ha.

Washington couldn’t make himself read more than a few files after finding himself rereading C.T.’s message over and over again. He closed his laptop. This was what C.T. had been targeted for -  _ killed  _ for - and she passed it on to him?  _ Why? _ What could he do that she hadn’t? It was clear that she had some kind of surveillance in place. Washington had no such thing. He had no contacts outside of a few low-level lab technicians and, maybe,York could help, but that would require  _ telling  _ York about C.T.’s conspiracy. Is it still a conspiracy is someone is explicitly killed for it?

This...this wasn’t going anywhere. With a sigh, he pushed himself off the couch and went into the bedroom. He pulled on a pair of sweats and a tank before getting into bed. Maybe a little sleep would help resettle his nerves. 

He woke nearly an hour later, covered in sweat and panting. C.T.’s face kept haunting his dreams, alternately begging him for the flashdrive and demanding that he keep it safe.  _ My fault.  _ There would be no rest for him. Washington suddenly shivered and pulled his covers closer.  _ My fault, my fault, my fault. _

When Florida had told him, when Washington had been faced with the utter devastation on the team’s faces, when he realized that C.T.’s attackers were after the information on the drive - it had felt like everything had shut down. He could only watch and listen as C.T. spit back at her attackers - her  _ killers _ . He couldn’t have done anything - there was no trading, no agreeing to demands. She was too far away for them to reach in time. There was nothing he could have done and yet, his mind tortured him.  _ Only stood by and watched - didn’t even try. Didn’t even tell anyone about the drive, just kept my mouth shut.  _

With his mind screaming insults and his teammate - his sister in all but blood - reaching out, Washington had thrown on a thin jacket and left his apartment. The chilly night breeze that blew in from the lake was the best mind-clearer that one could find outside of a bottle. He was regretting not pulling on a sweater.

Washington started out from the apartment complex and slowly wove his way towards the center of the campus. The three main buildings that composed of “downtown” all opened into a courtyard. Other than a few night patrolmen, Washington didn’t pass anyone as he walked. It was just him and his slowly fading thoughts. Maybe, if he kept walking, he could drown everything out with the simple motion of putting one foot in front of the other. One of the security officers waved at him from their car and Washington’s concentration broke when he attempted to return in kind. The poor man must have thought he was drunk when he stumbled while waving. 

The cold had began to sink its teeth into Washington’s bones when he reached the courtyard. It was as he expected - desolate and silent. He immediately found his way to a bench and sat down. For just a moment, if he closed his eyes and focused on the wind brushing through his hair or the distant rush of vehicles, everything was peaceful. 

_ Everything was okay. _

The crunching of shoes on gravel shattered the thin veil of calm. Washington turned to see who was approaching him, but without any of the lightposts nearby, he couldn’t make out anything other than a silhouette.

“Wash?” The voice was so soft that Washington assumed it was Carolina. She had a habit of sneaking up to her agents - always managing to find them when they felt as if everything was crashing down around them.  

Washington turned away. “Carolina-”

“Carolina? Do I  _ sound  _ like a chick?”

His head whipped around so quickly, his neck gave a twinge. “What-?”

“Relax,” the figure finally stepped into the circle of light around the bench. His hands were up, palms facing Washington. There was a soft smile on his face. His eyes had settled into a dull powered blue. There was something so  _ sad _ about him…

Washington stiffened. “Church?”

“I, uh, heard there was a death in your division.” Church sat down on the bench beside him, although he kept on the far side. Washington hated to admit it, but keeping space between them felt safer. Whether Church figured that or not was a mystery. “That must be rough.”

_Rough?_ _That makes it sound like my pet had run away._ “Rough doesn’t quite cover it.”

Church either didn’t hear the threat in Washington’s tone or he ignored it. The latter option would not bare well for his health if he continued. His next words, however, were softer. “I’m sorry. What was her name?”   


“Connie.”

“You were close,” Church said before suddenly freezing. He hurriedly added, “You, ah, sound like you were close.” 

Washington’s senses immediately trained on the man sitting next to him. He wouldn’t have noticed Church’s words if he hadn’t backpedaled so quickly. Suspicion began to creep through his thoughts. “We were close, yes.”

“Losing people like that can really damage you.”

“We weren’t anything like that. She has -  _ had _ \- a fianc é .”

“This might sound like an idiotic question, but why aren’t you with them then? You’re a security officer, a coworker, and a friend. Wouldn’t the whole ‘telling the family’ fall into your hands?”

“We, uh,” Washington paused to fish around for anything that would make his reply sound better, “we were unable to get anyone out to see him today.” Church stared at him. 

“You mean-”

“The team was rather occupied.”

“Ah.” Why did he suddenly seem so understanding? “Right, sorry. I forgot - that was dumb of me. So he is still waiting for her to come home?”

“...Yes.”

Church looked down at his hands. His long fingers intertwined, pulled, and released themselves. Washington noticed a silver ring on his left ring finger. “The waiting isn’t going to make things easier,” Church whispered, hyper focused on the ring. 

“It would be devastating news, regardless.”

Church met Washington’s eyes. “Sure, but hearing it like her death was second-hand news only twists the knife, you know?” His eyes held a terrible sorrow. 

_ Oh _ . Washington understood. “I’ll inform him first thing tomorrow.”

Church only nodded, gaze once again off in the distance. Whatever suspicions Washington had were derailed by the man’s obvious pain. They were still there, demanding answers, but he had caused enough pain already. He settled for placing a hand on the other man’s shoulder. There was a rueful smile and an offer in return. 

“Need a drink?”

“Yeah,” Washington sighed, “I really do.”

Church sat up and stretched. He stood and offered a hand to the agent. “Know any good places then? I’ve overheard that there’s this local bar that has some hard-hitting stuff.”

“Charlie’s?” 

Church perked up at the suggestion and snapped his fingers. “That’s it.”

Oh, the irony. “Maybe not.”

Washington stumbled home in the early hours of the next morning with a pleasant buzz that drowned out the rest of his thoughts. His bed looked so appealing that he flopped face-first onto the mattress and was out like a light. It never occurred to him that he might have asked Church why he was out walking just as late.   
  


 

His alarm had gone off, but Washington refused to move. Everything felt like shit - and that was just how he felt without facing the world. Water sounded nice, but that would require him to move and if he moved, that meant he was alive and that meant yesterday was real _. _ Denial was safer, less painful, less full of  _ your fault your fault your fault _ mantras. Could he call in sick? Just not deal with anything.

His phone pinged from the bedside table. Washington slapped at it with no luck, so with a sigh, he pawed at it until it was close enough he could read the notification. 

_ [Unknown Number] sent 1 message.  _

Washington tapped in his passcode slowly, eyes narrowed against the screen’s brightness. He opened his messaging app and scrolled down until he found the new message. It wasn’t anyone he --

**_[Unknown Number]_ ** _ : don’t forget the fianc _ _ é _ _. _

Washington froze. He truly had to be the one to tell Terry, wasn’t he? None of the others were as close to C.T as him, with the possible exception of South. Carolina would offer to go, but only because she’s in charge. Maybe he should just let her break the news, less guilt that could run rampant through his head. Then he wouldn’t have to face C.T.’s loved ones.  _ I couldn’t face her loved ones knowing I killed her. _

His phone went off, but he ignored it in favor of getting up. He needed a shower first. Interaction could come later. His phone pinged as he walked into the bathroom and again when he stepped into the shower. Once the water was turned to a comfortable temperature, Washington sighed. At least the phone couldn’t be heard over the spray. The cold morning air was at odds with the steam from the shower. That could be a good analogy for how Washington felt. Guilt and anger raging a battle:  _ his fault, their fault, make them pay. _

He turned off the water and stepped onto the foggy tiling. There was a ping from the bedroom. He got dressed, focused on the texture of his shirt then pants. His jacket was hung over a chair in the living room. Only one work shoe was found, the other was hiding. Washington ignored another message to find it. With himself in a now-presentable manner, he finally picked up the phone and glanced at the screen.

_ [Unknown Number], Yorkie, Alpha Twin and 2 others have sent 12 messages. _

He didn’t respond to any, he’d be at security soon enough. He folded his jacket over his arm and left. As he turned from locking the door, Washington found himself face to face with Maine. He jerked back. Maine nodded at him.

“What are you doing? You nearly gave me a heart attack.”   


Maine held his hands up to his face and shut his eyes, spreading out his fingers when he opened his eyes again.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Washington said. He continued down the hallway, Maine falling into step beside him. Maine shrugged. He mimed crying and Washington grumbled, “Really? You’re already making jokes?”

Maine looked appropriately abashed. The rest of the walk to security was made in silence. The lobby was still as busy as ever -  _ didn’t they know C.T. was dead? _ \- and trying to get to an elevator without a mob of people already in it was a test of patience. Washington jerked away when someone bumped into him. They apologized twice when Washington just stared blankly at them after their first attempt. Maine dragged him into an elevator before Washington could acknowledge it. 

The first floor was pretty empty. Only a few of the newer agents were in the break room, sitting close and keeping a constant watch around them. Minnesota and Wisconsin were clinging to each other instead of the usual bickering. The new agents were usually so full of  _ life _ . It wasn’t right to see them so paranoid. Maine disappeared into the break room, leaving Washington alone.  _ Great _ . Washington tugged his jacket closer as he walked down the hallway. He could hear York and Carolina talking in her office. As he passed, York stuck his head out and beckoned him over. Carolina opened the door so that she could be seen as well. 

“How are you doing?” She asked. 

Washington shrugged, “I’ve been better.”

York and Carolina exchanged a look. York reached out to put a hand on the younger agent’s shoulder. “You were close to C.T. and we figured you’d be taking this all pretty hard.”

_ You were close. You, ah, sound like you were close. _

Washington shook his head to clear out the memory. There were more concerning things than someone who apparently knew more about this division then most. 

Actually, once he put it  _ that  _ way…

“Washington? Are you alright?” Carolina was suddenly in his face.

He leaned back. “Yeah, boss. Just, you know.”

“It’s hard losing someone,” Carolina said, “but life still goes on. We can’t let this stop us from moving on.”

“Jeez, Lina! Give Wash some time to grieve!” York sounded scandalized.

“C.T.’s death was a hard hit, but we still need to keep our focus. Someone killed her and we need to find out who and why.”

“Sure, we can do that,” York argued, “but we can’t expect everyone to bounce back after this! This is the first in-field death for a lot of our agents. They’ll need time to process it.”

Carolina turned towards him, eyes blazing. York drew himself up in the face of her challenge. Washington simply backed away. He wanted no part in their dispute. He needed to think, and the two of them yelling at each other won’t be helpful. Their fighting would be muffled if he could make it into the safety of his office. He escaped into the room and closed the door just as Carolina’s voice began to turn shrill.

Washington sat at his desk and turned on his computer. The flashdrive was at his apartment, tucked away - he didn’t trust the privacy or security of his work computer anyway. There were still some reports to be done, and soon enough, they’d demand one regarding C.T.’s death. He couldn’t bring himself to even start it. There had to be something else, anything to take his mind off of her.

His phone pinged and Washington dug it out of his pocket. Another message from the unknown sender asking after C.T.’s fianc é. Washington stared at the text. Terry didn’t know that C.T. was dead. He was still expecting her to come home.  _ How could I be angsting in my office while C.T.’s loved ones were still without a clue? There wasn’t any possible way my pain could rival theirs.  _ He hauled himself out of his chair with his mission in mind. It would be painful for everyone, but it needed to be done. 

He knocked on Carolina’s door when he passed and couldn’t hear any raised voices from inside. “I’m going to tell Terry,” he said when she opened the door. She frowned, but nodded. 

“Alright. Good luck.”

Washington nodded. He could feel Carolina’s stare burning through his back as he continued down the hallway. The few people that were in their offices with their doors open or in the break room watched him as he passed. Wyoming and Florida were talking with their heads close together, but drew apart to exchange solemn greetings with Washington. Florida seemed spent. There wasn’t any of the usual spark in his cerulean eyes. 

It seemed... _ strange _ to Washington that he wasn’t the only one affected. 

He shook the thought away as he stepped into the elevator. The doors closed behind him with unusually softness. Everything appeared to be in the same shock that had settled over the agents. The quiet chime when the elevator reached the lobby and opened was solemn. Washington stepped out, almost immediately running into some security officers. He apologized and side-stepped around them. They didn’t seem to have noticed him. 

C.T. and Terry lived in a different apartment complex as the rest of C.T.’s fellow agents. She had been concerned about what Terry would have been exposed to in their apartment as compared to a complex build just on the outskirts of the official Noeva campus. Washington knew how to get there - he’d been the designated driver more than a few times. It was simply a matter of how long he wanted the drive to be. The faster route would bring him closer to the guilt-increasing task, but the slower route would only prolong it. 

His truck started on the first try. Apparently, the universe wanted him to get it done with. The faster route it was. Washington turned off the radio as he pulled out onto the street. He needed to collect his thoughts. What would he even say?  _ Sorry, Terry, but C.T. is dead.  _ It sounded too blunt. Trying to start a normal conversation before dropping the news would only be cruel. Sugarcoating it would make it sound like Washington was trying to do Terry a service and not just say it.  _ Terry, I’m sorry, but Connie was killed last night.  _ That sounded professional. Maybe too clinical? 

He arrived much too soon. He parked and rested his head against the steering wheel. He couldn’t mess this up. This was too important. This was for C.T..

Climbing out of the cab and beginning the walk towards the apartment complex was done almost robotically. A woman held the door open for him as she left. Washington followed the stairs up to the fourth floor. Fourth floor, white door on the left. He raised his fist to knock, but faltered.  _ What if Terry had already left? _ He couldn’t leave a note or anything. Imagine leaving a phone call to inform someone of a loved one’s death. No, Washington had to hope Terry was still getting ready.

Steeling himself, Washington rapped on the door. There was noise from the other side. He stepped back as the door creaked open. Terry peered out from the sliver of an opening. When he saw Washington, he disappeared and the clink of metal could be heard. Terry swung the door open and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and slight smile on his face.

When Washington opened his mouth, nothing came out. He tried again, but still no luck. Terry’s face began to turn to confusion. When Washington looked up and met Terry’s concerned gaze, he exhaled and drew in a large breath.  _ I have to do it - for Terry and C.T.’s sake. _ He squared his shoulders and looked Terry dead in the eyes.

“Terry, I’m sorry. Connie died last night.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short, but! Updated! Finally! 
> 
> This stupid chapter really fought me. The talk with Terry was determined to outlast my will. But it's kind of important so it deserved it's own chapter.

Terry’s face drained of color. He croaked out, “What?”

_ Too blunt? Too much? _ “You have my condolences,” Washington said.  _ Too clinical? _

The other man stepped back, allowing Washington to come into the apartment. The agent followed him inside and sat down on the edge of a chair while Terry slumped into the opposite one. The man’s appearance screamed agony. 

“What happened?”

Washington folded his hands in his lap. “She was killed during a transport. We hadn’t thought there would be any chance of an attack - it came as a surprise.”

“Do you know who did it?”

“We-we don’t know,” Washington sighed, “I’m sorry.”

They lapsed into silence. Terry was focused on the coffee table between them, his eyes betraying a storm of emotion. Washington simply waited. It was painfully difficult to stay, to watch, but he had to be there. What image would it give if he fled now? Terry needed support, and while Washington didn’t feel was stable enough for it, he would do whatever Terry needed of him.  _ It was my fault after all.  _

Terry’s voice made the agent lookup and his change of tone put Washington on edge. “You didn’t  _ think  _ there was a chance she’d be attacked.”

“No.”

“Then why the  _ hell  _ didn’t you  _ check _ ?”

“There was no evidence to suggest-”

“There clearly was! You had to have missed it.”

Washington leaned forward, trying to meet Terry’s furious eyes with sincerity. “Terry, I promise that we did everything that we could before sending Connie in. It wasn’t a high stakes operation, just a transfer. The charge wasn’t anyone important in Noeva and Carolina was with him. If anyone, she would have been a bigger target than Connie.”

“Why didn’t you check?” Terry asked again, quieter this time. 

The man tensed when Washington reached over to put a hand on his shoulder. “Terry, it’s okay to be angry.” Terry snorted, but didn’t shrug the agent off.

They sat in silence, the apartment window occasionally creaking with the force of the winter wind. Terry rubbed at his eyes as he pulled away from Washington. The agent leaned back, eyes tracking every movement Terry had. From devastated to angry to exhausted - Washington didn’t really know the whole stages of grief theory, but he was pretty sure that Terry was flying through them. People reacted differently, but wasn’t it unhealthy to compartmentalize trauma too quickly?

“It’s not your fault, Washington. I-I just...what do I do now?”

_ It  _ is  _ my fault. _ “That’s something you’ll have to decide.” 

When the silence stretched between them, Washington stood. He had nothing else to say, no comfort to offer. Why had he come here in the first place when he knew all he would bring was despair? A tight grip around his wrist stopped him in his tracks. Terry had leaned forward, eyes suddenly burning with… _ something _ . Something dangerous, something cold. 

Washington sat down when Terry tug on his arm. The man leaned forward, pressing his face close to the agent’s. Washington struggled to fight down his nerves as everything in his body tensed. 

“She told me that you know about her work.”

_ Work _ ? “The files? The evidence against the Director?”

Terry nodded. “Yes. I don’t know much - she kept me in the dark for the most part - but I do know that she was balancing on the edge of a knife. I think she knew something would happen to her. She gave you a copy of everything, right? You’ve seen the files - you know that there’s something going on here. It was all she could think about. She just kept pouring over the files, trying to match things together.” Terry frowned and met Washington’s eyes with an intensity that was utterly foreign. “She gave you her work. Connie’s dead now. Will you keep on her trail?”

“Terry-”

“It’s what she would have wanted.” Terry leaned back with a faint smile. “She was a perfectionist. Couldn’t let anything go unfinished.”

_ “Take this. Just look it over and when you’re done, you can destroy it.” She handed Washington a little white flashdrive. He took it, stared at it in the palm of his hand before sighing and stuffing it in his jacket pocket. C.T. let him go. “If everything on that changes your mind, let me know.” _

_ “Where--you--where?” _

_ He froze as C.T’s voice filtered through. She had to be smirking. “I don’t have the flashdrive.” _

_ “--where?” _

That stupid flashdrive. Washington sighed. “Terry, I need you to promise me that nothing we say here goes out of this room. I’m going to ask you some questions and I need you to answer them the best you can. Okay?” He waited until Terry hesitantly nodded. “Connie’s killers were after the flashdrive. Do you know if she had a copy as well?”

“She burned it.”

“She said that you meet someone who may be involved, correct?”

“Yeah. He’s a scientist that works at the South Lab.” Terry shrugged. “Average height, kind of skinny. Black hair, blue eyes. I can’t remember his name...something like Temple?”

“Not many people working in the South Lab anymore.”

“Nah, Temple or whatever has been kicking everyone out that isn’t part of his team.”

_ Is that so? _ “Do you know why?”

Terry only shrugged in response. Washington rubbed his face with a sigh. Well, that’s still more information than he originally had. Maybe once he finished reading through the rest of Connie’s evidence, there’ll be a connection. Washington stood to place a hand on Terry’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

Terry looked away. “If she was killed over this, does that mean a company official ordered her death?”

“We don’t know,” Washington said, “but I can promise we’ll find them.”

Terry didn’t move as Washington let himself out. The agent paused as in the doorway. “Be careful, okay?” Terry didn’t respond.

The door closed with a note of finality. A shudder ran down Washington’s spine and he pulled his jacket closer around him. He had a lot to think over. Connie was killed because of what she was learning, there was no doubt. But who ordered it? What does all of her scraps of information lead to? The South Lab? The dark haired scientist who apparently runs the laboratory? Not to mention that Washington still had a creeping feeling about the Church fellow he kept running into. He knew what was happening with the security force somehow. Was he a friend or foe?

Washington froze mid-step as he had been going down the stairs. There was chime from his phone caught his attention and he hastily dug it out of his pocket. 

**_[Unknown Number]_ ** _ : drinks tonight? _

What wonderful timing. Guilt was swirling around his heart. He needed to drown it out with something.


	6. Files II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a good portion of technobabble here and some actual science stuff! I've spent more time researching stuff for this fic than any research paper I've done as of yet. It's pretty cool stuff, though, so it's been fun. That said: I still have no idea what I'm doing with most of this science jargon!
> 
> I hope y'all are ready for some detective work; this chapter is full of secrets! (More so than I originally planned...)
> 
> BCIs: Brain-Computer Implants  
> EEG: Electroencephalography

>C:\User\David>External Device: RUN

  >Files: Located

     >Run? _Yes_

     >Retrieving files...

     >Retrieving .txt files...

     >Open File Directory? _Yes_

>NOEVADRIV:\>Directory: Search: _SOUTH LAB_

  >SOUTH LAB terms found: 99+

      >Located: South Lab Folder

      >South Lab: RUN

          >Greek Emails: RUN

          >Activity Log 1: RUN

          >Retrieving files...

          >View files? _Yes_

 

> Label: SL-Orders-01, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Unknown], _

_ Any word? _

_ [Unknown] _

 

> Label: SL-Orders-01-Reply-01, File: Activity Log 1

_ Alpha, _

_ There is nothing on the scale that you are proposing. All the scientific evidence on neural implants is experimental at best and utterly ridiculous at worst. There are some studies on neural implants working to aid those suffering from memory loss, but attempting to “store” memories is an entirely different matter. My contacts have all agreed that while you propose a curious hypothesis, it is impossible to actually achieve. _

_ Delta _ _  
_

 

> Label: SL-Orders-01-Reply-02, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Recognized: Delta], _

_ Keep trying. Someone has to have some crazy theory that we can work with. _

_ [Recognized: Alpha] _

 

> Label: SL-Orders-02, File: Activity Log 1

_ Alpha Lead, _

_ Theta Lead’s team has been in contact and we are currently cooperating in determining which implant would be the most beneficial. Theta should have more information should you require it. Independently, my team has been surveying the specifics between the invasive, partially invasive, and non-invasive procedures. While all three options have significant positive aspects, there are some concerns that are cropping up.  _

_ Sigma Lead _

> Label: SL-Orders-03, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Unknown], _

_ Give me some good news. No one else is having any luck. _

_ [Recognized: Alpha] _

> Label: SL-Orders-03-Reply-01, File: Activity Log 1

_ Alpha, _

_ It may not be a massive breakthrough, but we do have something! After talking to Sigma’s team and some outside contacts, we’ve managed to formulate a tentative conclusion based on the capabilities of both possible implants. As you know, neuroprosthetics are prominently in use to combat degenerative neurological functions. They connect the designated nervous system to the implanted device. BCIs can allow individuals with limited motor abilities to control robotic limbs and control basic simulations, but they are much more limited in their area of performance. They must be able to connect the brain to a computer system. Unlike neuroprosthetics, BCIs are unable to be attached to specific systems. They’ll be able to connect to any system that interacts with the primary nervous system, but none of the auxiliary systems.  _ _  
_

_ With Sigma’s reassurance that both implant systems have similar surgical techniques, we have come to the conclusion that a BCI-style model is much more likely to be a success. Sigma’s team has already been informed and they are narrowing their experiments to BCIs specifically.  _

_ Theta _

 

> Label: SL-Orders-03-Reply-02, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Recognized: Theta], _

_ That’s  _ **_[censored]_ ** _ fantastic, Theta!  _

_ [Recognized: Alpha] _

> Label: SL-Orders-04, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Unknown], _

_ Did you get it? _

_ [Recognized: Alpha] _

> Label: SL-Orders-04-Reply-01, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Recognized: Alpha], _

_ Yeah. I got it. _

_ [Unknown] _

> Label: SL-Orders-04-Reply-02, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Unknown], _

_ And? _

_ [Recognized: Alpha] _

> Label: SL-Orders-04-Reply-03, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Recognized: Alpha], _

_ And what? _

_ [Unknown] _

> Label: SL-Orders-04-Reply-04, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Unknown], _

_ No ‘thank you’? No ‘wow! Isn’t Alpha the best?’ _

_ [Recognized: Alpha] _

> Label: SL-Orders-04-Reply-05, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Recognized: Alpha], _

_ Keep it up and you’ll only get a ‘wow! Beta punched Alpha in the face!’ _

_ [Unknown] _

> Label: SL-Orders-04-Reply-06, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Recognized: Beta], _

_ Point taken. Iota and Eta will pick up the materials. _

_ [Recognized: Alpha] _

> Label: SL-Orders-05, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Recognized: Alpha], _

_ None of our potential subjects seem stable enough. _

_ [Unknown] _

> Label: SL-Orders-05-Reply-01, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Unknown], _

_ What do you mean? Physically or mentally? _

_ [Recognized: Alpha] _

> Label: SL-Orders-05-Reply-02. File: Activity Log 1

_ [Recognized: Alpha], _

_ Both. _

_ [Unknown] _

> Label: SL-Orders-05-Reply-03, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Unknown], _

_ Thanks. That’s real helpful, Omega. _

_ [Recognized: Alpha] _

> Label: SL-Orders-06, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Recognized: Omega], _

_ You  _ **_[censored]_ ** _ idiot! Why did you approach them? _

_ [Recognized: Alpha] _

> Label: SL-Orders-06-Reply-01, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Recognized: Alpha], _

_ Stop worrying, A. I can’t do my job without some field research. _

_ Omega _

> Label: SL-Orders-06-Reply-02, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Recognized: Omega], _

_ That’s creepy, man. Don’t say that again. _

_ [Recognized: Alpha] _

> Label: SL-Orders-07, File: Activity Log 1

_ Alpha Lead, _

_ Theta and I have both agreed that using BCIs would be the sound option. However, we are opposed on how invasive, and ultimately, how effective the implant should be. I suggest allowing Gamma and Omega to add their input. Omega may have additional propositions based on the subjects’ nature while Gamma should have some insight into the baseline functionality that we are aiming for. _

_ Sigma Lead _

> Label: SL-Orders-08, File: Activity Log 1

_ Alpha, _

_ I know Sigma suggested getting some advice from Gamma and Omega, but I don’t believe that should be necessary. Our concern should be our subjects health and safety regardless of their evaluations or the device’s effectiveness. Our agents are capable without any augmentations. There should be no need to give them such an invasive surgery when they would be perfectly capable with a simpler EEG-style device. I’ve spoken to Delta and he concurs. Please at least consider it. _

_ Theta _

> Label: SL-Orders-09, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Recognized: Sigma, Omega, Gamma], _

_ Permission granted. Go ahead. _

_ [Unknown] _

> Label: SL-Orders-10, File: Activity Log 1

_ [Recognized: Theta, Delta], _

_ I’m sorry. _

_ [Recognized: Alpha] _ _  
_


	7. Files III

>C:\User\David>External Device: RUN

  >Files: Located

     >Run? _Yes_

     >Retrieving files...

     >Retrieving .txt files...

     >Open File Directory? _Yes_

>NOEVADRIV:\>Directory: ...

> CORRUPTION DETECTED

     > Begin self-fix?  _YES_

     > Attempted to restored data...

     > Open File Directory?  _YES_

>NOEVADRIV:\>Directory: ...

     > Located: Encryption

            > Attempted decryption encountered block

            > Attempt Leveled Decryption?  _YES_

> Decryption 1 . . . . . FAIL

> Decryption 2 . . . . . FAIL

> Decryption 3 . . . . . FAIL

> Decryption 4 . . . . . FAIL

     > Attempts Failed - Reattempt?  _YES_

> Decryption 5 . . . . . FAIL

> Decryption 6 . . . . . FAIL

> Decryption 7 . . . . . FAIL

> Decryption 8 . . . . . FAIL

      > Attempts Failed - Reattempt?  _NO_

      > Attempt Manual Decryption?  _YES_

> Decryption 9 . . . . . FAIL

> Decryption 10 . . . . . 70% SUCCESS

    > Access files?  _YES_

Label: UNKN - Log 01

_ [Encrypted Addresses: 1 and 3] _

_ Kid just about chucked himself off again. _

_ [Encrypted Address: 2] _

 

Label: UNKN - Log 02

_ [Encrypted Address: 2 and 3] _

_ You stopped him? _

_ [Encrypted Address: 1] _

 

Label: UNKN - Log 03

_ [Encrypted Address: 1 and 3] _

_ No. One of those “security agents” found him and talked him down. _

_ [Encrypted Address: 2] _

 

Label: UNKN - Log 04

_ [Encrypted Addresses: 2 and 3] _

_ Shit.  _ **_[Encrypted]_ ** _ did you get anything from the agent we had? _

_ [Encrypted Address: 1] _

 

Label: UNKN - Log 05

_ [Encrypted Addresses: 1 and 2] _

_ Nothing new. _

_ [Encrypted Address: 3] _

 

Label: UNKN - Log 06

_ [Encrypted Addresses: 2 and 3] _

**_[Encrypted]_ ** _? Do we have any information on the new agent? Are they a possible obstacle? _

_ [Encrypted Address: 1] _

 

Label: UNKN - Log 07

_ [Encrypted Addresses: 1 and 3] _

_ His codename is “Washington” and I’m trying to convince some of our friends to let me have his file. Target’s been spending a good amount of time with him recently. _

_ [Encrypted Address: 2] _

 

Label: UNKN - Log 07

_ [Encrypted Addresses: 1 and 2] _

_ They appear to run into each other for the most part. We have some recorded interactions over text. _

_ [Encrypted Address: 3] _

 

Label: UNKN - Log 08

_ [Encrypted Addresses: 2 and 3] _

_ Alright. Until Washington becomes a threat, we might as well leave him alone. Maybe he’ll keep doing our job for us.  _ **_[Encrypted]_ ** _ , I want you to keep an eye on them when you’re not surveying the South Lab.  _

_ [Encrypted Address: 1] _

 

Label: UNKN - Log 09

_ [Encrypted Addresses: 1 and 3] _

_ Why can’t  _ **_[encrypted]_ ** _ deal with those lab idiots? I’m getting really sick of their bullshit. _

_ [Encrypted Address: 2] _

 

Label: UNKN - Log 10

_ [Encrypted Addresses: 2 and 3] _

_ I thought you were the “people person”. _

_ [Encrypted Address: 1] _

 

Label: UNKN - Log 11

_ [Encrypted Addresses: 1 and 2] _

_ No, he’s just a whiny bitch. _

_ [Encrypted Address: 3] _

 

Label: UNKN - Log 12

_ [Encrypted Addresses: 2 and 3] _

**_[Encrypted]_ ** _! Play nice. _

_ [Encrypted Address: 1] _

 

Label: UNKN - Log 13

_ [Encrypted Addresses: 1 and 3] _

_ I fucking hate you both. _

_ [Encrypted Address: 2] _

 


End file.
